Parenting a Teen (A Rant)

Parenting a teen is a thankless job. The trials of parenting your child when they are a teen are fraught with land mines, emotional and otherwise.

A few examples of the choices and questions presented to the parent of a teen might include figuring out when your teen can navigate a mall when not under your eagle-eyed gaze, how to give them just enough privacy with which to hang themselves and when to have the REAL discussion about drugs.

(Thanks Nancy Reagan, I do believe you had good intentions, but when my 6 year old daughter came home after experiencing one of your ‘Just Say No’ campaigns at school and stated that she WOULD NEVER TAKE drugs, I simply asked her what a drug looked like. Yeah, as you would imagine, she had no response...so please, give the kids something tangible to work with here.)

When you are the parent of an infant or toddler, as that parent you get all kinds of advice; breastfeed or bottle feed? Which disposable diaper is the best...or if you are the crunchy variety like I was, which cloth diaper service? Which books to read to my little burgeoning piece of grey matter? And oh, how people would comment on my daughter's looks. How beautiful, cute, charming, dimpled and sweet. Praise about her adorableness used to abound.

But now that she is 15 and in the throws of teenagedom, I get few notices. Gone are the well-meaning helpful remarks about her diet and growth...nary are the comments about how adorable she is. The new sound bytes include how much she looks like me, how tall /big she is...and is she babysitting yet?

I insert comments about the trials and tribulations of raising a teenaged daughter into conversations with peers and they are mostly met with raised eyebrows and statements like “well, does her Dad own a shotgun?”

Granted, the daughter of my tales does not endear her to people. She is mercurial at best. (But if you are a stranger or a co-worker of mine, no doubt you will be charmed be her alter ego; the engaged, participatory and friendly version of herself.)

True to her age and science she can be hormonal and sullen in one moment or sunny and whimsical the next.

But, she is still a child - albeit one that is navigating her way into adulthood. She still needs me, for just a few more years. And, these are probably the toughest years that I will weather as a parent.

So where are the accolades, showers, commiserating blogs and advice that I received 14 years ago when she was an infant? Where are the Mommy play-dates, birthday parties and community of my daughter’s toddlerhood?

***Sigh***

Not only is parenting a teenager rough, it also makes a parent of a teen feel a bit isolated.

Buying a Car

I have never been a car fanatic. I have never spent countless dollars attaching a spoiler, adding rims or installing an expensive stereo system on any of the autos that I have owned.

I do however, have long term relationships with them. Some of those relationships were a bit abusive (on my side, when I was younger) and some were longer lasting than others.

A somewhat brief history:

My first car in 1987 was a rust-colored ’83 Toyota Tercel, that my father bought for me after I graduated and started working while taking college courses. As my parents had been naming their vehicles in alphabetical order since they had married, I gave him an ‘A’ name, Aloysius. Aloysius was my first ‘car love.’ He had a sun-roof, was easy on the gas and afforded me the freedom that I so craved when I was 17. Though he is sorely missed, I am glad he isn’t around to tell of the tales of my late teens and early twenties exploits that he was witness to and (an innocent) part of.

I ran Aloysius into the ground. My next car in 1991 was a Toyota Corolla; she was bright red and had a manual stick shift. This time, though my Dad made the down payment, I was responsible for the monthly $100 monthly loan payments. She had only 30,000 miles on her when I got her, but someone must have loved her as a racing car. She had spoilers, loud speakers and several two-lettered monikers after her make and model. Betty Boop was fast, sassy and sexy (as was I at the time.)

By the time Betty Boop was nearing the end of her life in 1996 (Like I said, I was really hard on and neglectful of, my autos in my youth) I was married and had given birth to my only Daughter.

My Daughter’s Father and I purchased an early SUV, an Isuzu Trooper together, shortly before her birth. We imbued him with the moniker “Big Al.” And it was Big Al who made the trip from the hospital to home with my Tay after she was born.

Taylor’s father and I parted ways when she was only 2. Betty Boop had expired and Big Al was our only shared vehicle. Thankfully, my ex’s parents gave him an aging Volvo.

In 1998, my beloved Grandmother decided that Neons were the cutest things on 4 wheels...and thus, she purchased one for me outright. We went to Carmax one day...I commented on a pretty bright blue one...and all of a sudden she was mine. I named her ‘Betty Blue.’ I had decided on going back to a B name after my separation from Taylor’s Father. I figured I would re-start with the naming process.

Betty was my car through Taylor’s younger years. I was SO proud of her, and the fact that she was owned outright (due to my Grandmother’s generosity.)

From 1998 through 2003, Betty was my vehicle. She gamely took me to work and traveled with me as I picked and dropped off my Daughter at school or with one of her loving Grandmothers.

In the beginning of 2003, she started to fail and show signs of needed repairs that were beyond my (at the time) meager means.

In February of 2003, I was driving past one of the car lots on the street just to the East of me and espied a beautiful Chrysler Sebring Convertible. Her top was down and her pretty sage green paint sparkled in the sun.

I pulled in and a few hours later, Casey was my new pride and joy.

I remember the next morning when Taylor and I got up to go to work / school and we greeted Casey in the parking lot of our development. Taylor turned her big brown eyes towards me, “Is she REALLY ours, Mommy?” she inquired. “Yes she is,” I replied.

As she is a convertible, Casey has been my later-in-life (late 30s) sexy car. She was the first car that I owned outright, without a father or a husband. It was thrilling to drive her with the top down. No matter my frame of mind, every time I drove her topless...I was elated and any previously dark mood turned sunny.

She and I have been together for almost 8 years now. Just recently, she has shown some signs of age - brought about more quickly because of the strains that my new husband has challenged her with. He drove her through a deep rain-water puddle (the water was up to the doors) about a year ago. Her engine coughed and sputtered...and died. We gave her a new engine (heart transplant) and she ran as much as she could and very tenuously. These lat few months she has expelled some unseemly noises...of an over-wrought transplant engine and of something knocking about where her tail light was replaced.

She gave me a last hurrah on the way home during my lunch hour on Friday. She started leaking fluids and stank of gas and / or oil.

I took a half day off on Friday. I knew it was time. Time to put my beloved Casey to pasture - and time to finally realize my dream of owning a Hybrid.

My sister works for Toyota...so when I knew I had to purchase a new car - it was an easier decision. I was blessed with employee pricing, along with zero percent interest.

So yesterday, I became the proud owner of Daisy - the Toyota Prius Hybrid.

My monthly payments will mean a definite change in budget for our little family.

But I am happy with my purchase and with my decision.

I look forward to many miles with Daisy - and I am praying that she keeps me and my Daughter safe in the years to come. (Taylor will likely get her license while driving Miss Daisy - no pun intended.)

So tell me about your important cars and what they meant to you....

Voting

I am so sorry, I didn’t vote on Tuesday. (I was traveling.) But in case anyone in interested…here are my thoughts.

This last election was so fraught with finger pointing and pontification that I was glad that I didn’t get to vote. The platforms of the electees were so lost in accusations; I didn’t know who stood for what.

But below are my beliefs:

• I am in favor for a woman’s right to choose. The day that Roe vs Wade is overturned is the day that I will run for office! And you can quote me on that. I.e. Stay Out of My Womb!
• I am in favor of same sex couples being able to marry and being able to have the same rights of hetero-sexual couples. Geez, same sex couples have been around since Moses left Egypt! Give it a rest, stop crucifying them! And for god-sakes, stop bullying young teens that come out. We have already lost enough beautiful young men and women – it is shameful.
• I am in favor of marijuana being legalized, and having the same laws governing it as we do for alcohol. So many people I know smoke or take the occasional toke. (I don’t, it never did agree with me) But, in-act laws around it to ensure no one “smokes and drives.”
• I am in favor of welcoming all aliens. We are the US of A, we’ll find a way. (Plus, I am the daughter of a once-upon-a-time alien from Cuba.)
• I am in favor of banning all fire arms. I know that the right to bear arms is in the Constitution…but that was written in the days when that was the only way to keep the peace. (If you need a reference on how a country survives without guns – just look at the Netherlands.)

Okay, so given the above I would be labeled a Democrat (which is what is stated on my voting card), but really I am a pacifist. Make love and not war and all of that.

But my bottom line is this, we are:

One Human Family.